You Really Shouldn't Believe Everything You Read in the Papers
by MrsMCrieff
Summary: Sequel/Epilogue to my previous story Don't Believe Everything You read in the Papers. It covers Christmas in His Last Vow. Sherlock and Molly are in a relationship.


**Sequel/Epilogue - companion piece to my previous story 'Don't believe everything you read in the papers'**

**This takes place during the end of His Last Vow. Rated M for smut.**

**Disclaimer - I own nothing, but am forever in awe of those who do.**

It had been four months since 'that day in the morgue', as Molly now thought of it. Life with Sherlock was unpredictable but Molly didn't think she would want it any other way.

They had been taking it slow, in part because initially Molly was very suspicious that this change in Sherlock was going to be temporary but also because it had been a long time since Sherlock had been physical with anyone and though his heart felt differently his mind needed time to come to terms with it.

As it turned out Sherlock wasn't a virgin, he'd had plenty of drink or drug fueled hook ups in his youth but that was all they had been. He had never been in a relationship before or had meaningful sex and so they'd decided to take it slow and wait until they were both ready.

That hadn't stopped them spending time together. They had been on a few strange dates the oddest of which was when Sherlock stopped by one evening with some crisps and coffee to watch her perform an autopsy. Only to, at the end, give her a kiss goodbye and tell her how much he'd enjoyed himself. It was only after he'd gone that Molly realised he'd classed it as a date.

Most of the time either he'd come to hers where she would try and fatten him up a bit with a home cooked meal before subjecting him to a film or a TV show. Or she'd go round his with take away and help him with some of his experiments. She'd even made the mistake of playing Cluedo with him once, against advice from John, she wouldn't be doing that again!

John was still living at Baker St though Molly had a feeling he might be getting back with Mary soon. It was Christmas and she knew he was spending it with Mary and Sherlock at Sherlock's parents house, plus she'd seen him gathering up some of his things from around the flat and starting to pack.

She knew that their break up was something to do with Sherlock's latest case but didn't know the details. When she'd asked Sherlock he'd mentioned it was blackmail but wouldn't say anything more citing that it was Mary's secret to tell and he wouldn't betray the confidence. Molly still didn't really know Mary well enough to ask so she didn't pry any further.

John's reaction to Molly and Sherlock was quiet bemusement, at least to her. She got the impression that Sherlock had received more of a ribbing from John, but once, when she was alone with John, he'd commented how happy he was for the two of them and that he thought she would be really good for Sherlock. He also warned her that he couldn't say the same for Sherlock's influence on her but so far he hadn't been too bad.

They'd agreed this year to spend Christmas apart. Molly had spent yesterday, Christmas Day, with her mum and sister. She'd had a good time catching up but was glad it wasn't longer. Her and her mum didn't have that much in common so regular, short bursts were better than infrequent longer stays. Today, Boxing Day, Molly was in work doing her bit to cover the morgue over Christmas. She was only working today though and then she'd be off until after New Year.

They'd decided to spend New Year together and Molly was thinking that the time might be right to move things on in their relationship. Their make out sessions had certainly been getting more heated of late and Molly wasn't sure how much longer she could carry on without just tearing his clothes off and...oh she so needed to not have these thoughts whilst she was still at work. She could feel the blush rising up her cheeks and if Sherlock came in now he'd probably deduce at a single glance what she'd been thinking.

Talking of Sherlock she hadn't heard from him since his Christmas call yesterday. She knew he was quite forgetful of those kinds of relationship niceties so she wasn't too worried. She figured she would ring him later when she was back at her flat.

She handed the morgue over to Mike at 5.00pm and made her way back home wrapping up well from the cold. She'd manage to steal one of Sherlock's scarves which she tied round her neck stopping briefly to close her eyes and breathe in the smell of him. She stopped in at the corner shop, before going home, for a few bits and pieces and saw the papers were covering the shock death of some media mogul.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMH

It was about two hours later that Molly heard the knock at the door. His knock. She grinned to herself thinking that he must have got back earlier than expected and she ran excitedly to the door.

As soon as she opened it she knew something was wrong. Sherlock looked...broken, more broken than he had the night of the fall. Molly took an intake of breath as she stood by to let him in.

'Sherlock, what's wrong? Tell me.'

He just wrapped her in his arms hugging her tightly. 'Oh God, Molly, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry'.

He finally let her go and led her through to the front room, he threw off his coat and sat down on the settee. She sat opposite him on the coffee table, their knees and hands touching. 'You're scaring me Sherlock, tell me what's happened?'

'I killed a man... You have to believe me, there was no other choice, no other way. I, we...we were trapped. I'd underestimated him, I thought I had it all worked out but I was wrong.'

Molly tried to make sense of what he was saying but in her mind she could hear Sally Donovan saying, to anyone that would listen, 'he's a psychopath, one day we'll be standing round a body and it'll be Sherlock that put it there'. She drew back from him, chewing her lip, she felt numb, unsure how she should be reacting. But then she remembered that night in the morgue when he had come to her and asked her 'what if I'm not everything you think I am, everything I think I am?' And she knew her answer.

She leant forward again, taking his hands in hers. 'I believe in you Sherlock, I always have and I always will, if you say there was no other way I believe you. We'll get through this...together'

Sherlock looked away and Molly's heart sank. 'It's too late Molly, Mycroft has protected me as much as he can but even his protection only goes so far. I have to go away, there's a job that needs doing and because of this I have no choice.'

'It's OK, I'll still be here when you get back. How long are we talking?'

Sherlock's silence said it all. Molly felt the room spinning, she thought she might be sick or pass out. 'You're not coming back are you? How long?'

'Mycroft reckons six months and he's rarely wrong. I wish this could be different, you have to know that I don't want to leave you, not now, not ever, but I have no choice Mycroft's position is compromised because of me and I can't let him down.'

Molly had stood up not sure what to do or how to get out of the nightmare that was unfolding around her. She wanted to scream, she wanted to hold on to Sherlock and never let him go. He stood as well talking as she backed towards the wall and then he was quiet, looking at her with those eyes and all of a sudden they were kissing and it was brutal. She hit the wall hard feeling the whole length of Sherlock pressing against her. All their fear and desperation was being poured into this kiss and Molly felt herself sinking, losing herself in it, wanting nothing more than to feel Sherlock against her, inside her.

Her hands pulled at his shirt tugging it from his trousers, her nails raking his back and his sides pulling him against her. She could feel his hand against her breast squeezing almost to the point of pain, somehow her own shirt was loose, her bra hanging from her shoulders. She scrabbled at his belt as he pushed her higher up the wall neither of them breaking off from the kiss. She felt as though she wanted to crawl inside his very skin. Even like this, their bodies pressed up against each other they were too far apart. And then she felt him. He ripped her pants aside and pressed himself into her, not pausing to let her adjust to his size just thrusting into her, and it still wasn't enough.

She clung to him, riding him, riding the pain and the pleasure. Tears were coursing down her cheeks and when she put her hand to his face she could feel his there too. Even as her heart broke she could feel the pleasure building, she had never had sex like this, it was raw, painful, but so emotional. Sherlock kissed at her neck, sucking and biting as though he were trying to leave an imprint of himself on her skin, marking her as his and it was that thought that sent Molly spinning over the edge. She came in a way she never had before, crying his name, it seemed to go on and on. She felt him come too and then his legs gave way.

They fell to the floor still connected, Molly's legs either side of his, straddling him. He pressed his face to her breast and they sat there together Sherlock rocking them slightly back and forth. Her hands twined in his hair her tears still falling.

When they finally separated Molly looked at Sherlock and didn't think she had seen him looking more gorgeous. She had always secretly dreamed of disheveling that perfect image and here he was laid out in front of her, hair mussed, shirt half undone and hanging out of his trousers, still wearing his jacket and shoes.

Slowly he moved forward and captured her lips in a slow sweet kiss, the complete opposite of the ones they had just shared. He gently removed her clothes before taking his own off until they were both naked. He stood and took her hand and they walked together into her bedroom.

'How long do we have?' She whispered.

'Not long enough, a couple more hours at most,' he replied.

He pushed her down onto the bed before crawling slowly up to meet her. Leaning into her he kissed her again before saying 'this time I want us to make love. I want you to know how very much I love you Molly Hooper.'

He kissed her neck, her breasts, taking his time, learning and memorising every inch of her. Molly would never have thought she could get so lost in him when sorrow was lying just around the corner but she did. She came again when he touched her and licked her and kissed her down there. He knew what to do as though they had been together for years rather than it being their first time, but then he was always good at deducing and a quick learner.

When he entered her this time it was slowly, his eyes never leaving hers and it felt perfect, she never wanted it to end, never wanted to let him go. The tears fell from her eyes and he kissed each and every one away until they were both lost in the moment again. When they had finished he held her close to him. She was determined not to fall asleep, not to miss a single moment. Until she did.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

When she awoke Sherlock was gone. He had left a short note on her bedside cabinet.

_I'm sorry I didn't wake you but I couldn't bear to actually say goodbye to you. Just know that wherever I am in this world I will have the memory of you, your face, your voice, your scent in my heart as well as in my mind._

_I love you,_

_Sherlock_

Molly had heard people talking about heart break before and thought she knew what they meant, until now. She curled upon herself pulling the covers up over her head like she had as a child when the night monsters scared her and she could make them go away using her duvet for protection. She cried and screamed and cried until her throat was sore and she felt as though there was no moisture left in her.

She heard her phone ring a couple of times but ignored it, she slept and she woke and she cried again and again and again until she felt faint.

Eventually it was Toby who made her get up. His bowl was empty and he'd come looking for her to complain...loudly. There was no food in the flat so she threw on some clothes, tying her hair up in a scruffy ponytail before making her way down to the corner shop. She knew she looked a mess but couldn't bring herself to care. She felt as though she would never care about anything again.

She saw the picture and the headlines as soon as she entered the shop. Picking up the paper she looked into the face of Moriarty, Jim, with the headline **Miss Me** staring out at her.

She read on.

_Moriarty is back but where is Sherlock Holmes. Our sources tell us he's left the country. Is he running scared?_

It was then that she felt his presence behind her, she breathed in his familiar scent and his hand slipped round her waist and as she leant back into him she felt as though she were exhaling for the first time in days.

He kissed her neck as he spoke 'you know Molly you really shouldn't believe everything that you read in the papers'.

**And that's it, hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you did please review, and if you do review I thank you.**


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